


Quid Pro Quo (2011)

by JennyB



Series: Lent 2011 [18]
Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Fetish, Lent Challenge 2011, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Teasing, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-26
Updated: 2011-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 17:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyB/pseuds/JennyB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If he can't have love, Dougan will seek the next best thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quid Pro Quo (2011)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [svana_vrika](https://archiveofourown.org/users/svana_vrika/gifts).



> Written for Lent Challenge 2011. Prompt: Temptation, mentions of short yukata, Dougan's hair.

Dougan smiled privately as he made his way towards his master's cell. It was the same every night after evening prayers: he would go to Sanzo's rooms and see if the other needed anything before retiring for the night himself. Sometimes there would be nothing to do. Other times, he would be up until the wee hours of the morning. He liked those nights best of all.

Dougan still remembered the first time he met Genjyo Sanzo. He had been told by some of the temple elders that he was to be Sanzo’s personal attendant, and he hadn’t known what to think about that. He’d looked around at the other high-ranking monks and had inwardly winced; if Sanzo outranked even _them_ , he’d assumed that he would be old. ‘Wise’, to use the euphemism. He’d been more than a little surprised when instead of some grizzled old codger, he’d seen a man not more than a few years older than him. And the moment he'd met those cynical, droopy eyes, he’d fallen in love.

Their first conversation had not been deep or philosophical; it had hardly been what one might even call ‘pleasant’, but Dougan had hung on every word that Sanzo had said to him, making a silent vow that he would become indispensible to the other. He would make sure he saw to _all_ of Sanzo’s needs, however grand or small. Even when he’d been asked to give his own body, he’d done so willingly. He could still see himself as the trembling virgin standing naked and pure before Sanzo, and he could still recall the way Sanzo had looked at him that night as he’d taken him into his bed. It hadn’t been with his typical scornful contempt, but rather with desire. In his naivety, Dougan had believed that if Sanzo desired him, then perhaps it wasn’t too much of a stretch to think that one day Sanzo might love him. He was wiser now.

Dougan never did see that emotion in Sanzo’s eyes. However, Dougan did notice that whenever they had sex, a few of the softer emotions would creep into Sanzo’s unguarded gaze – at least until the moment had passed and Sanzo had once again shuttered away his true feelings. It didn’t take Dougan long to realize that he, and he alone, was the only person who could evoke such a passion in Sanzo, and he reveled in the fact that he was the only one who ever saw it. He began to covet that look, and he quickly learned how to use his body in subtle ways to tempt his master. Sanzo was powerless to resist, and Dougan rather liked that sense of control he wielded over a man so otherwise uncontrollable.

He wondered if Sanzo knew, or if he even cared, that his motivations were purely self-interested and not just borne of his blind infatuation. Dougan figured that if Sanzo _was_ aware of it, that was why this thing between them - he was hesitant to call it a relationship - had continued. In a sense, they were using each other to get what they wanted: Dougan a sense of closeness to a man who continually denied him, and Sanzo a willing body that didn't laud about being fucked by one of Buddha's chosen. It was an interesting thought, to be sure; something he might ask about someday when Sanzo was in an agreeable frame of mind.

He reached his master's door and stopped, taking a moment to pull the tie from his long plait and finger comb through the raven tresses. He knew that his hair was a bit of a fetish for Sanzo, and it was only in his master's private chambers that he wore it free so that the other might appreciate it. After knocking softly, he slid open the panel and stepped inside, bowing slightly as he closed it behind him. "Good evening, Master," he greeted, and then straightened. He noticed Sanzo was sitting in the low chair by the lamp and reading a newspaper. That meant that Hakkai had been by. "I was wondering if there was anything you required of me this evening. Tonight's meal was steamed rice, grilled whitefish and long beans; I can fetch you a tray if you'd like?"

"Not interested."

Dougan paused, but he smiled a little wider. "A bath then? If you're not partial to the sandalwood soak we've been using, there's one with a rosemary and lavender essence you might find relaxing."

"I don't want a bath."

"Alright, well then -"

"I don't want anything except to read my damned paper in peace. Get out."

Dougan bowed slightly. "Alright, Sanzo-sama, if that's your wish. I'll just take care of this laundry for you and I'll be on my way." He moved to the hamper and bent over, reaching down into the bottom of the bin for the various garments. As he did, he could feel the hem of the short yukata he wore riding up to expose his ass. Most days, he wore fundoshi like the majority of his peers, but some days, like today, he opted to go commando. He knew that Sanzo was watching when he heard the soft rustle of the newspaper and the subsequent soft, but sharp, intake of breath. He turned slightly to peer behind him, the movement causing his hair to slip down over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sanzo-sama; did you say something?" he asked as he gazed sidelong at the blond through the silken curtain of hair, his expression both coy and sensual at the same time.

"Maybe there is something, Teishi."

"Oh?" The laundry forgotten, Dougan straightened, his head tipped down just enough to appear tantalizingly submissive.

"Yes. I'm hungry for something after all."

"I see. Of course, Master." Dougan's expression was beyond smug as he walked silently towards Sanzo's bed, unfastening the silk sash of his yukata and letting it fall soundlessly to the floor behind him.

Some days, it was too easy.


End file.
